World Cup

World Cup Fever is here.
Hot. and Wild.
I haven't missed a game. That sounds rather pathetic. I just planned my holiday well.

Argentina was one of my favorite games.
The players kissed on the cheek each time they subbed. The coached kissed them too. It was beautiful. Reminded me of living in Buenos Aries and kissing everyone hello and goodbye. That is a culture I loved and felt at home in. I was literally welcomed into their face. Hello. Intimate love and wanting. It was awesome watching that on tv too!

These soccer players classy.

It is loud and noisy here. Wonderful.
The vuvuleza is heard everywhere. Go into town and come home deaf.
I love it.
I soak it up. Sit and talk soccer and watch with my adopted grandparents and dad.
Depending on the day.

The World Cup riles up memories of good friends.
All my closest friends understand this, love it too.
It is the true test of a more global person, verses American.

Americans just can't appreciate soccer like the rest of the world.....

Grateful for a soccer education. So grateful.
My love knows no bounds.

Can't wait to get to some games myself next week. Am dying knowing its going on and I watch from home. Though tomorrow is supposed to be 4 degrees outside, so not sad I am missing those games. BRRRRRRRRRR......

Are you watching? Who do you want to win?!?!

wash him clean

around ten yesterday morning my helper, becca comes to me and says one of the boys had pooped.
all over himself.

...and here i thought i had them all potty trained and was past the days of diapers and wipes and gross.
nope. no such luck.

i was doing activities with the older boys so i asked bec to take care of it. within a few moments she said she was gonna throw up and couldn't.

i left the boys, let her take over and went to see the mess myself.
boys don't do anything half hearted. i've learned that. it doesn't matter what they are doing, they go big. every single time.

this was no exception.
poor pedrence. he was coated.

i put on gloves and began to clean.

within ten minutes of very very little progress i realized more was needed.

we took a little walk. his cute naked body following behind me as we walked to a house.
i used to hate cleaning up their messes. sometimes i still do. but yesterday i didn't.

spent the next twenty minutes bathing him. laughing with him.
getting all sorts of soapy and clean.
i borrowed some clothes and dressed him.
then we walked back home.

i used to hate cleaning up their messes. sometimes i still do. but not yesterday. yesterday i kept thinking to myself that this is what the gospel is.

this is what Jesus does for me.

He comes in all big and clean and gets on my level and wipes me. 

He smiles at me as i stand exposed and gross and coated in my own flith and shame.

He lovingly washes over all of me. 

He'll lift me up out of the tub, wrap me in warm blankets and dry me off.

dressing me again in new clothes.

and i kept thinking to myself, this is what i came here to do. i came to love and spill of myself into others. i came to be gross and used and do whatever is necessary so that these little boys of mine know the Love of their Savior and Maker. 

and when He asks me what I've done for the least of these, i can think back to these moments. and i can know, and answer that i loved. that i gave of myself and got dirty too so that we could both be clean again.

and all the good of that means nothing if my heart isn't right, and so i pray pleading prayers with each swipe from the wipes. i pray that i stay humble and small and let Him come clean out all filth from my heart. 

i loved the special time with pedrence. it wasn't how i'd planned it, or what i'd normally think is the ideal, but sharing sweet giggles together and washing Him with love filled my heart. 

what a joy to be His hands and love these boys. even days like this when loving equals the dirty.

sokkie

on saturday i took some girlfriends to a sokkie sokkie.
it was marvelous.
and hilarious.

Afrikaners are this weird group of people. i love them. i really do. like, a lot of love. but sometimes they just like the weirdest things to me and do the weirdest things. and i don't get it. i find myself thinking: "what could possibly be enticing about this?" a good portion of my life here.

to me, it is this strange mix of country, polka, and redneck in culture. but its different. its unique. wonderful and hilarious. and i know for a fact i amuse my friends here all the time with my american-ness so, to each his own. thats where love and grace and laughter come in, right?!?! =)

some friends from the states were here doing a training and i was darn sure i was gonna get them to a sokkie even if it meant going to one here in town instead of in pretoria where i've always gone before. ooooo mokopane. bless you. small, country town that you are. you are smaller than anything from back home. i shouldn't have had such high expectations.

i called my man friends from town and got partners for us ladies. we were told it wasn't super safe after dark for us as everyone would be drunk and colorful if you will. so we were fine going early and missing out on all that. we got to the dance hall at 630. talk about being THE ONL PEOPLE there. hahahha.....

close your eyes with me. (i realize you can't really do that and continue reading....so just pretend you are closing your eyes, and really keep reading *smiles*)
imagine, its already pitch black outside. an oldish barn/hall type building. old women in their 40s (at least) manning the counter with their 3 month or younger babies in their lap. a nice size dance floor, a stage. paying R20 because there is a special singer tonight, so its up from its usual R10. (roughly R20 is $3.75). you enter. there is no one there but your girlfriends visiting from the states and your man friends from town.

so you sit. sip your coke. watch.....you watch nothing. nothing is going on. the music is this weird polka/country/disco music. classic. and typical.
its already homey to you by now. you might dislike it, but its growing on you so much that even as you dislike it it grows fond and delightful and not as shocking and hilarious.

you all sit at your table and small talk. finally, you see one of your friends ask one of the girls to dance. and you all watch. can't help it. nothing else to look at. they dance for a bit. at some point you get up and dance too. the hall is open on both sides. which would be nice in the summer when its so hot, but you feel at the same time chilly from the cold and warm from dancing just now and you wish that the doors were closed. but, wait! there aren't even doors on the sides! just open air where barn door used to be!

you dance with some good partners, some needing practice, some needing help. it doesn't matter. you are instantly taken back to being a little girl and all your years of dance practice and impromptu lessons with your dad in the living room. dancing is when you are at home.

you have to feel a bit of pride in your sokkie skills. you're getting pretty good. making all the turns. only mis-stepping twice the entire night. kudos to yourself.

you watch your girlfriends. their faces amuse you. your face must have been the exact same when you first arrived. but now its all old hat. the shock value has worn off.

about an hour or so pass. you have danced on and off. laughed a lot. felt awkward a lot. you watch your girlfriends face as a baby in a stroller passes by the dance floor heading towards the bar. wow. just wow. then in the very next moment, a dog. wonders across the scene as well. this is your life here. its normal. dogs, cats they all roam free. but to your friends. this is unreal. and so their faces freeze in a state of shock.

you stay a bit longer and are gone before its 830.

you digest the day in the car with your friends. you decide its been a fun evening. and that you'll never go back to a sokkie sokkie place in mokopane again. only in the big city.

a normal day.

....lest you think every day for me is sunshine and i always enjoy these african skies....

on wednesday i left my house at 640 in the morning. that is very normal. i didn't get home till after 10 pm. thats normal for a wednesday. normally it is earlier, but that day, with church and dropping off people on the way home and then my car not starting and then walking home myself....it was late.

thursday back up at 530 in the morning. at the school house by 640. i was home early yesterday, i got home around 5pm. thats fairly normal. give or take an hour *smile*

today began at 515. the sky is dark, the air bitter chilly and i wanted to stay under my blanket. i got up, ate, read, showered, went to start the car. we thought we fixed it yesterday. no such luck :(
i ended up walking to school and arriving late. my boys all bundled up in packs on their momma's backs. poor little ones standing chilly not sure where i was.

manassah, my gift car. that i paid for with my own money but in every way is a gift. he's not doing so well. and he wasn't able to get into a garage today. so broken he still sits in the yard. i don't even have a hope or an idea of what is wrong. so i've decided (and somehow its working?!?!) that its no help being upset and he'll work when he works, and i'll pay what i need to do get him running and he'll sit broken till someone can help me. so i put out the feelers and said what i needed and its out of my hands. so i wait and walk and enjoy knowing i'm exercising my body and feeding my spirit in not being upset.

i got to school. preceded to spill coffee all over my white shirt.

today was shaping up to be a grand day. car not working, coffee spilling.....

hung out with my little entourage of men for two hours then drove up the mountain for more EE training. (there's been a big children's conference on the farm that i've been blessed to participate in during the morning and early afternoon hours this week. more on that another day...) i felt like a hot mess with my big ole coffee stain and knowing manny wasn't working.

went through training. taught my break-out group to do a drama. couldn't resist. it was hilarious. it helped us learn. acting always helps me learn something....hahahahhaa

came down off the mountain after lunch and had a few long moments with the boys while they ate and told me what they did that morning. then my boys momma's picked them up. early. VERY early. i was happy. i love early friday's.

i got in the car to see how aunt liz's car works. we drove up to polokwane. i dropped aunt liz and beth off. then i took natalie and bec to the mall. err.....the closest thing to a 'mall' within 3 hours that we have. i had to get some groceries so we went to pick-n-pay. at which point all the check-out counters in the entire store went dead. as in, offline.

as in, nothing worked. and of course it happened just moments after swiping my card. SO, we had to wait till get our receipt and money back. otherwise, we'd just have put our stuff back and left. but no, we waited.
and we waited.
and i still had my coffee stained shirt on, lest you think i changed. i hadn't.
34 minutes later (yes, i timed it), we were on our way out. i had become good friends with lucas my checkout boy and he was cute and funny and we talked about soccer and the world cup and how in 6 days the entire world will be here in our south africa.

and then i wanted to take the girls to Mugg & Bean to get them good muffins. but they were out of muffins. as in, they had none.
how is that even possible??! that is what they are known for....
and so we wondered and sipped a milkshake, smoothie, and iced coffee respectfully.
and i got home around 7pm. which isn't too bad.
and now i am preparing lesson plans for next week. and writing stories for those books i mentioned once before.
and i finally put my coffee stained shirt in the wash.

sometimes its normal for an entire store to go offline. for cars not to work. for the cold bitter air to seep into homes. thats all normal.

the good news is my clicker works at the big gate so i can now get in and out without panicking. thats good. and i did manage to pick up my world cup tickets! i squealed at the counter and the people inside said i was the happiest person to get my tickets they had yet seen. i was dumbfounded. could you really be unhappy to get your tickets? yes, apparently you can, because they said lots of people were angry. weird. so weird...

being left at the piano

i've been thinking a lot the past weekend about this one night last year. it was september or october.

i was alone and vulnerable and exposed.
and in a way, thats sorta how i feel now.

last year before the time Manassah entered my life i was rather stuck on the farm. i would have to hitch a ride into town or beg one of my friends from town to drive out to the farm to get me. i didn't really like doing that because its 30 minutes to the farm, then 30 minutes back to civilization, then 30 minutes to the farm to drop me off, then 30 minutes home for whichever friend it was. but i was desperate to get into town and get to church.

so i called a friend of mine to come and get me. i don't even remember everything from that day. we got to church and there was no church. so we played a bit of poker with friends. i was demolished. i can't fake or lie or anything, my face gives me away. but i love playing. really, i just love playing any game. but soon i realized after losing again, that the church was empty and so i asked and meandered my way into the sanctuary.

and there she sat. quiet and still and beckoning.

since i wasn't on my own schedule i remember whispering to shawn where i would be and that i wouldn't be leaving the piano, so he would have to come and get me when he was ready to go and take me home.

and so freely i sat and played. it was the first time i had really played since i moved here to south africa. and i was alone. something about the night quiet, and the stillness of a house of worship makes my heart sigh and relax and my fingers move and find the melody that lays buried.

i didn't realize it at first but shawn had come in and was laying down listening to me sing and worship. he said he was there awhile before i realized it. i always get embarrassed when i notice someone listening. i stopped playing, made to move away, and he gently coaxed me back to my seat. it took a few songs but i forget he was there again. the piano is my place. my happy secret place.

i heard richard come in before i saw him. he too sat and listened. i had an audience. a bit later i glanced up and realized shawn had left. he wasn't there. i asked richard what happened and he said shawn slipped out and had to leave. some phone call.

i remember the panic, the frozen paralyzing fear that gripped me. i remember not being able to think. and praying, pleading that no tears would escape. i would not cry in front of richard over something i knew was so small. i was abandoned. alone. my ride had to leave. i didn't know who to call to come get me. i was afraid. i felt so betrayed. shawn said he'd take me home, and here he had left without a word. richard could tell i was antsy and apparently the whole time he was smiling and apparently shawn's car keys were right on the floor.

but for those moments, who i was, and where i was, was enough to send me into a near tailspin.

a few more minutes passed. i had walked back to the piano. i had lifted my fingers but i couldn't play. i was alone. left. maybe it was not even a minute, i don't know. more time passed. then the familiar face reappeared. i stood. tentative. fearful. i struggled to come up with words saying i was ready to go home. but my movement was enough.

soon we were in the car. and on the way home and we didn't reach the edge of town before the tears came.

i wasn't ready to cry in front of richard (that would take about another month till we'd get to that point), but in front of shawn silent shame-filled & hot tears poured down my cheeks. it took almost the entire drive home for me to put to words the lunacy in my tears and why i had gone from so normal to so afraid. and i knew shawn wouldn't leave me but i felt he did, and it was more richards words than the absence of shawn, but i couldn't shake the anger over what i thought happened. and i couldn't stop feeling so ashamed to have doubted one man off of another man. (and isn't that so like us? constantly comparing and judging from what we know. glory, glory He doesn't do that!)

i was vulnerable. and exposed. and there wasn't much i knew here yet, or understood, and what i thought i understood in having a friend to depend on, and then having that friend go against everything (so i thought) and leave, and being abandoned...it was too soon to feel that.

i cried because i thought it had happened again. someone i trusted left me. and i cried because i didn't know how to be fixed. and i cried because i'd just have called my parents in america and at least they could tell me who to call and how to get home and i was all alone in a strange place.

all alone in a strange place.

i've been thinking about that night a lot lately. wondering how i'd react now? would it be the same? would i laugh at the teasing? would i look and notice the keys before i felt it was true? i don't know. i don't know.

but i do know that i see growth in my life in simple things. in small things. today i see growth in that i have a host of people i would call if i was really abandoned somewhere. in the fact that i wasn't abandoned that day, nor since and that He will never ever leave me.
growth is often painful and confusing.
and thats the point, right? so we don't stay confined to the shell we're living in. so we branch out and spread wide wings and go soar.
higher than the last time.
with stronger wings, and more gumption in our tail feathers.

when i can figure out why i keep replaying that story i will be sure to share....i feel like there are nuggets there from Jesus for me, and i think i have an idea of where and why its heavy but He does tend to move in mysterious ways and so i wait. i am waiting....

while i wait, let me count up more endless gifts...35-53

• for good friends who i can cry in front of
• growing up in Jesus and growing stronger
• parents who made me diligently practice piano every day even when i was grumbly and complaining
• a sister who showed me how to write music and create
• truth, good, painful, real truth spoken over me
• a marvelous weekend away
• new favorite drink: red cappuccino
• new favorite fruit: persimmons
• someone gifting the Brits family with real maple syrup from america. oooooo SO, so good to me!
• not having to drive to jozi this weekend
• falling asleep to the sound of the wind whipping in the car.
• in fact, car naps in general
• sleepy boys who love to snuggle when they wake up from their naps
• sleepy little boys who smile when i smile at them
• potato soup on cold winter days
• LOST. wow. tonight was so intense!!
• the bulls won the championship on saturday night. its so superficial but it seriously made me so delighted
• little amelie and i playing make believing all day sunday.

a mindless normal day

i have deadlines to meet.
places to go.
people to see.

i have homies to my right.
homies on my left.
not really, that last part at least.
no homies for me.

i have little jacques directly in front of me drawing and writing. he's abnormally subdued since i made him do wall sits for disobeying. they worked for me in basketball practice to get better at making my free throws, and they worked marvelously for him just now. kid is stone faced repentant and scared and its almost freaking me out. nicole is just to my right finishing up her homework. we're waiting on her to finish so we can make our cookies. i felt like it was a goodnight for cookie baking.

but, uh...isn't any night a good night to bake cookies? YES! yes. of course, yes.

i'm off to jozi for the weekend to stay with lelane and her family. my family, or at least my parents in the states, are off to the cabin.

i'd rather be at Little Beaver with them and the deer and bears and the linx. but jozi is a very good second option. and i hear lelane lives on a hill. and it overlooks the city and i think i could be quite happy if that is true. we'll have to see.

i'm leaving at mid-day. and i can not wait. like i could barely sleep last night i was so excited and i have such nervous excitement butterflies in my belly even now!! geez, calm down, rebekah! you'd think i never did anything off this farm, or for fun, or anything for how giddy i am feeling.

i can't wait because as much as i enjoy the farm and love being outdoors in nature and passing sable and a million other critters on my way to work each morning i love cities. lancaster ruined me for them. and more than loving city life, i really think so much more freely and quickly in a new place. i guess i'm a gypsy at heart because i like the constant coming and going and change. and i'm so looking for Jesus to speak into some very specific areas of my life for guidance and next steps and just to hear Him. i'm achy to be still and listen.

before lunch today i felt like laughing and i truly have the most perfect job for quick pick-me-ups. so i sat on the floor and snatched up the nearest wee one and we tickled and giggled and i blew on bellys and we laughed and we laughed and like always happens the crowd arrived quickly. and so soon we were all rolling on ground and laughing and i lost calories and more than that, i let in Holy Spirit air and it filled and flowed out and it was marvelous.

i've become quite amazing at convincing the boys they must take an afternoon nap.
(side note: o dear, just realized its Thursday and this is already over three minutes. o well...)
so they are all laying down. all of a sudden matthew sorta wakes up. enough that he was able to stand, not enough that he was thinking. and in typical boy form, he pulls his pants down and uses the pillow as a toilet. no joke. i'm hearing this pee hit the pillow and looking over and seeing splashing and my mouth hangs open and i stare in shock and hilarity and what can i do? its already over and i just laugh. and shake my head. and grab him.

i have never heard of a girl forgetting something is in fact NOT a toilet and using it as such, only boys, and i've heard stories like that so often...what is it with you, men?!?!

its not at all surprising to me that it was matthew either. he is the one that quite regularly puked and peed on me all of last fall till he learned to adjust to being in a school and not at home and till he learned me and i learned him. yup. it was that matthew. gotta love him. at least he doesn't' pee on me anymore and its just the pillow. which can be washed. and at least he pulled his pants down so i dont have to wash those...

let me tell you what. if this job hasn't given me a more humble, servanthood, and patient heart nothing will. and i bet i'll be a much better mother some day for how much its calmed me this constant chaos and figuring out how to work in that and how to thrive in that...yes, yes, its possible. i tell you. these boys teach me more than i teach them.
every time.
every day.

simba's blood, and how it dripped on me

little crimson drops spread on the white shirt i wore today.

i wear clothes to cover up my skin, my heart, my thoughts. i wear them because society tells me too. though strangarity genes scream "freedom!" i whisper "no, no, no" and gather something semi-matchy matchy, thats presentable and waltz out the door.

little Simba dog was shot this morning at a neighboring farm. its all still a bit surreal. he is a much loved dog on this farm. two holes. in and out. shaved skin, droopy eyes, and heart cringing yelps of pain escape his little mouth. he whimpers with each movement. no side is good to lay to find comfort because the evidence of pain and opening is there, is everywhere. each turn, its there. i shudder to think how i would feel with the marks of what happened...*

i walked home from school today and met my family on the drive. i sat in the back with jacquie and nicole. simba was crying from the pain of the bumps. these farm roads do not soften bullet wounds. i climbed in, i didn't think. i reacted. i reached and held and gave stability as much as possible to brace and take the bumps myself. only minutes later realizing that i was wearing white.

white to cover my white.
cloth to cover my skin.

and simba had dripped and his red blood poured on me.
and i was marred.

we got home and i gathered pillows and blankets and cleaned and scrubbed blood, and then i saw myself. i paused in the mirror upstairs. i saw me. i paused and i saw me still. i lingered. and as much as i am ever able to see what lies in the deep, i lay uncovered.

the red spotting my white.

and i undressed slowly. whispering prayers for simba, and myself as i did so.

i like wearing white. its so clean and fresh and i think better when i have white on. and my skin isn't so nice and creamy milk white like some of my friends, but i am, by far, the whitest in the family, and i tan a nice shade of white and you'd never know the sun and i met. and still i wear white. because i like it.

and i put on cloth to cover and i haven't really thought before of wearing white to enact and hope it changes me and purifies me, but i do like the light more than the dark. and perhaps maybe subconsciously i have put on white to make me feel more clean. make me feel more alive and just fresh.

and i wear clothes to cover up what i don't want you to see. and i wear little masks to cover what i don't want to see or show. and i'll paint my nails and wear mascara and twirl and swirl and pitter patter on and wonder if its working or not. do i cover up half as well as i think? and do i want to?

its awfully amazing the thoughts that are conjured up when your beloved dog has been shot.

simba's blood stained me. and i watched the droplets spread over my clothes. and strangely all i wished was for it to cover and coat more.

somehow, red blood always makes me think of the cross. and how i wish to be coated full so it stays. how easily i forget that the once dripping was enough for ever. for all. how silly i am. how often i forget.

i don't need more of the crimson to come today. enough was spilled that day. enough for today.
and i don't need to find and search and hope for something to cover me and what i wish no one will know, and that not even myself, sees.

his blood is altogether enough for me and its coated and soaked through and its all and everything and more. and no need for me to wear anything or need more red drops to cover either....

and i sang little shouts of praise that i am coated in His blood. and i am free to live and be and wear myself and my heart cloth-less. and His blood has sang and danced and washed me and no amount of stain-remover can remove the parts that he's branded and bought and paid for. and i rejoice and sigh deep that i'm all at once clean white new and also oozing the red blood of life. all at once. all at once.

little simba was shot today. please say a prayer. this beloved family dog will heal and be running soon again and that the circumstances around it will be smoothed and somehow good, deep, peace will come....

*normally, farm life is not this exciting, this terrible. in fact, most days pass in a semi-vegetable like state where i search and see and discover beauty. today was a bad day. but He's holding little simba. and i'm not worried about being shot myself...for numerous reasons not blog worthy...so, relax mom and dad. love you *smile*

Things I learned this weekend

What I discovered again, anew this weekend.

• I'm a control freak.
• I still don't really like group projects. Love me a great group (and this was one), hate the feeling of wanting to get the task done, while everyone else wants to talk and share stories and what not. And hate how I can't relax and enjoy the conversing when deadlines loom in my head.
• I'll always be more task-oriented then people oriented and that will always surprise everyone. myself included.
• I get to emotionally attached to imaginary things. Like the kids I wrote. 
• I really like being outdoors in the sun, with leaves and trees all around me.

Most of these are not new things. This past weekend I was away with six other people on a writing and brainstorming weekend. We had a deadline. Today. We had over 48 stories to write. My head hurts from thinking. My eyes hurt from looking at my laptop screen all weekend. My heart hurts for writing what was needed but painful.

It was a weekend of laughter. It was a weekend of questioning and clarifying and figuring out how to say this or how to say that. It was filled with character development. Why would so and so do this? Why would they not do that? On and on the back and forth went till we were confident enough in who each character was. Then the writing began. Then the re-writing began. Followed by the editing. Then the frustrations rang out. Coffee was consumed. There was a bushbaby that peed on everyone but Rita. (yes, this includes me too). There was good food that we ate. There was a heated bed. There was an outdoor shower. There was the mountain and the baby giraffe, twice, was seen.

I can't process all the little ways my heart is thinking and feeling now. I just feel good being finished. It's finished. My part is finished, well, my main part is finished. Small edits, revisions. The book writing process is hard and complicated and slave-master editors (love you, tommy!) make you meet these deadlines. Do not editors realize that creative minds don't like deadlines?!?! 

I have missed catching up with heart-friends and I have lacked sleep. 

Now I go and clean out my old place and prepare lesson plans for the coming week. 

Bye bye weekend. Perhaps next weekend I'll see your rest days.

Haiti and my lisp

8:29am

Three of my friends have forced haiti to stay on the forefront of my heart. Its unreal.

Two of them have been there the past weeks. Yu can follow them here and here. It makes my heart sick and heavy hearing about how depoloable the circumstances are and how so much is lacking. Other friends of mine decided action was needed and with the proding of their 9 year old decided to do something different. They spent an entire weekend on public grounds in tents to simulate how the Haitians are living. Plans for a larger scale "in-your-face" are in the works. It has changed them as a family. It reminds me of steven curtis' family and how they started the adtoption process because emily, (I think she was around 9-11 at the time), told her parents they needed too. Three little girls later....

I love their little faces as they adjust to me.
I have 3 two year olds now. They attach themselves to my legs and are little growths that travel with me where ever I go. I love them. Their little smiles and squeals.

I love when I can get most of them busy and then pull one or two away for one-on-one time. The progress I see in those moments is amazing. They are learning and growing. Their little white teeth smiles move me.

8:32
I must go but last night I was told I have a lisp. For real? No one has ever said that but as I was stumbling over every word I must confess I heard it too. Wow.
So heres to being almost a quater century and learning something new about myself.
Lisp speakers of the world unite!
ps: mom/friends...is it true? Do I really have a lisp and no one had the courage to tell me?!?!

things they say

I say: "Boys please put that down. We don't beat each other with books."
One of them says: "Yes, Bekah, my lady."

I say: "Boys, sit and eat your food nicely."
One of them says: "Bekah, hey, can you get me some water please, babe?"

one of them says: "hey Bekah, I love you. Can I have a hug?"
three seconds pass...
"Can we now please watch cinderella."

I hear from one of them: "Sweets, can we please color now?"

I guess my saying over and over.
"Hi my sweets."
"I love you my sweets."
"Way to go, my babe."
"Come my little men. No, I'm not your little man. I'm a lady, and I'm not little."
"Time to eat my men. Come my sweets."

all these and so many variations are rubbing off. This week it near killed me hearing them say "my sweets," or, "my lady," or, "babe."
seriously?!?! Seriously?!?!

hahahahhahah
Oh, I love them so much. I really need to get better at having them call me miss, or auntie, or something more formal...but I just secretly smile so much hearing them say these silly pet names back to me.

four minutes with the Mad Hatter Hat

4:27pm

I'm so sleepy tonight.

the Mad Hatter Hat has found its way to the Jumping Monkeys and we are all delighted in it. Though, really, only Perfect has the guts to wear it and not a fear it will attack him. It was his special privilege all day long to have it on his head. adorable kid, eh?

The sun shines and blue blue wide open skies danced across the horizon. What a day to welcome a friend here to share the burden and joy these little boys afford me.

A parent stopped by this morning. A new wee one will come tomorrow. In diapers. Joy. Another boy. Of course. He must know I need them still. Or they need me still. Or either way they and me, we are not finished with each other. I wonder what would happen the day a little one in pink walks thru the door. I might cause a fright and stare. Or just gather close and hug gently.

I think the colds everyone else has are creeping up on me. It gets more and more painful to sallow. I wonder if that will end or change. I plan on saying hello to my pillow in a few moments now. That will be so nice.

I am tired. No more thoughts flow through my mind. Can you believe it? THis is my brain on lack of sleep!

Oh! EVERYONE should please read this book, or listen to it. i have been listening to it after downloading it for free and it is cracking me up. It is so much what I think and I just love his humour.

Times up:
its 4:31pm

Manassah

Manassah means: "The Lord has caused me to forget my past."

it all began about two years ago. probably longer. he was much loved by her. prayers were uttered over everything she owned. a rededication and anointing, her car, of course, was part of the praying. when they came to him, a prophesy: "He will be used for ministry." she took it, sat confused, and questioning, thinking to herself:
"well, i do use the car to take girlfriends out for coffee and encourage them. i guess thats what was meant?"
and it was forgotten. for two years. till friday two weeks ago.

my boss called inquiring after an add. he explained who i am a little. he explained what i am doing here in ZA. he explained what i needed the car for and how i would use the car.
in a moment the prayer, the prophesy was remembered. she would tell me she knew instantly i would be buying the car, even though it took me a week of tests and questions and emails and phone calls to be sure myself.

on saturday i laid eyes on Manassah for the first time.

i couldn't believe after almost five months of looking a car has finally matriculated. i have learned patience. grace. perseverance. appreciation. gratitude. so many hard life lessons as i waited.

he's perfect for me. a whimsical green color. old. full of history and life and worn-in. and he's cute and dainty and little in a sturdy sort of way.

we sat drank cold drinks together and chatted about life. she told me all about the prayers and how she loved him and will miss him. and i fought for a sense of normalcy and calm as her words bathed over me.

"two years ago....two years ago...two years ago..."
the only words that sank in that weaved their way into the fabric of my heart and mind.
"Lord! You knew? You knew even then? how?"

i will not cry in front of a stranger. i will not cry in front of a stranger*.
the mantra rang in my head.
i blinked back tears as i tried to grasp all she was sharing. for you see, she didn't know. she couldn't have. in fact. no one, save the Holy One who knit me in my mother's womb could possibly know. know i would be here today. here and needy.

two years ago last week was the bottom of the abyss. the lowest of the low points i have yet to see. and if i knew then a car was set apart for me i would have laughed in your face. because africa, and ministry, and living were so far removed from anything i wanted in that moment.

but He knew. and He saw. and He set before me like a lamp to my feet little guideposts to get here today. He knew i would be beyond frustrated waiting so long for a car. He knew i clung to hope and faith but seriously doubted anything would ever materialize. He knew what it would require to get me back to Africa.


people: He freakin planned a car for me, for today, over two years ago! 

i can not get over nor grasp the goodness of Him to me in His beckoning me and shaping me and how He has set before me this gift of blessing.

and so, his name is now Manassah. i wanted a good name. a strong name. i always loved Manassah and Ephraim and how they were children of promise after all the heartache Joseph experienced. i love both their names, but Manassah: to forget the past. that is a name i love.

two years ago he prepared and set apart this car for me. that attention to detail blows my mind. it fills me with ever greater hope in what He is preparing and doing in me now that i can't see.

.............................
*we're already fb friends and have set plans to reunite in person aside from business transactions. isn't that delightful? providing not only a car, but a friendship for me? just like Him.

and i can't take photos yet. its too personal and close to my heart. i am taking him in with my senses and basking in the goodness of the Lord. soon. i promise, soon.

back rubs

i broke my own rule yesterday. grrr....i'm not fully surprised tough! i knew it would happen at some point that i would forget how awesome my idea of writing for four minutes would be and write over that. in fact, considering i wrote yesterday's update on and off the entire day and wednesday night i not only went over four minutes i went way over four minutes.
go big or go home, right?

i spent well over an hour tonight rubbing weary shoulders. sometimes i feel like it is more healing for me to rub and give then to sit and take it in. well, maybe a close tie on that one. but seriously. there was a moment within the first few moments when i was eating a shared cadbury bar, and rubbing paul's back that i felt i was just bliss. in fact, i lost the ability to communicate with kelsey. the moment of savouring was too much.

i realize more and more the power of touch to me. anyone who's met my mother and sister knows you are overly hugged and touched and we all tend to stand a bit to close when talking to you and we like to touch you when we're talking to just ya know make sure you realize we are with you. can't tell you how many times i fight my way out of another hug or swap away hands when i'm at home.
but.
it was safe. it was the sun rising every morning i knew i could depend on those terrible hugs to be there. (love you, mom!).  not only could i depend on them, but they always came to symbolize love and security and belonging. i expect those hugs and the tickling and there are moments i honestly don't like them, but there are more moments i pretend not to like them and secretly ache long for them. and i guess mom knows that and thats why they haven't stopped.

people who let me touch them heal me.
people who reach out to touch me, they heal me too.

i've been consistently amazed at how i've come to associate touch and affection with "ok-ness" and security and acceptance.

its really only been the past few years that i'd have thought of myself as super touchy. but reality is, i'm more and more like mom and my older sister. touching all the time. hug you here. reach across and pat your shoulder there. chide your face like this. squeeze your hand like so. i blame it on the hispanic genes.  whatever....

the point is touch means so much to me. even more now. because when jordan and i were dating we had a normal relationship. if we sat next to each other he'd reach over and rub my arm, or greet me and give me a hug. and then we were married and he decided to make poor choices and there was just never any touch unless it was negative or hurtful.

lack of touch now equates to something being wrong in me.

of course that makes no sense. i know that in my head. but when someone is awkward about giving a hug or shudders as i lean into communicate i freeze up inside and walls are formed that shout "protect, protect, protect" and so i find the best possible way to make an exit and leave.
clearly i'm not wanted. or so my brain has been programmed to feel now.

its so obvious to me how little ones need constant love and affection and touching to grow and feel worth. i still need love and attention and affection to feel worth, and i did not lack one bit growing.

people who let me sit and run my fingers through their hair do me a great gift. rubbing 3 of the nomad's back tonight was a joy. and the grateful faces afterwards melted my heart. in some weird way it communicates they enjoy me. and i bring value to the world.

its so selfish, but what good it does my heart to feel and know i bring value. and yes, in my head i could tell myself and know that i bring such value in simply being a child of the King; but man, to hear and see happy faces makes me so appreciative as i go to sleep tonight.

its just such a happy thing to make others happy. its a drug i'm addicted to. but a good one, right?

what makes you feel completely at ease with someone?

wednesday afternoon

i was feeling pretty feisty when i got home from church.
we had guests visiting for supper that run a local hotel.
i felt like it was an important relationship building dinner and prepared myself to be on my best behavior. (apparently, my self-prep-talk didn't do much). the hotel has donated the use of their facilities to RaG. we've been holding teacher training programs there for about a month now, every saturday. the department of education is also helping sponsor the event. its an excellent opportunity to train teachers, who train children, who will grow and change the direction and climate of this nation. very cool. anyway, i missed supper but came in on the end for some excellent malva pudding and coffee. jacques and lizzy were introducing me and jacques joked that i was living with them to cook and clean. he was completely joking and it was obvious but then i jumped right in and said, "oh, no...but its true. thats why they keep me upstairs in the attic. i feel like cinderella!" i could barely finish cinderella before i started giggling but jacques just looked at me all wide-eyed shocked bc i really haven't been that sassy in front of him in a long time (in fact, i don't think i ever have), and he told me where did this come from? and that i was on a roll. best compliment i had in awhile. *grins*
i was on a roll...
.................................
my boys run to school 20 out of 21 mornings. i hear their little giggles all the way in my new school building before i see them. i see flashes of white smiles round the corner, they have arrived.
i love that. SO much!!
....................................
yesterday i sliced my thumb fairly well while i was cutting up some orange slices for the boys. nasty cut ruined a lot of the oranges in the process. red and orange don't mix well on any universe (sorry, mom!). i went to the bathroom to wash it with soap before sticking on a band-aid. one of the boys followed me in. all wide eyed scared that i was actually hurting. round chocolate eyes watched my every sigh and movement. silent words pierced the darkness: "i cut my finger at home like that too, bekah."
ahhhhh how healing words can be! he was comforting in the only way he knew. i realized all my efforts at getting them to actually care and notice and act are working!! sometimes i wonder if i shout and admonish and teach and mold and show and model and and and and and....does it do any good? but they do see and notice and listen and if it takes slicing my thumb to notice, i'll do it again today.
.......................................

weekly roundup vol. 5 and other things.

my apologies. this was written on and off over four days. its flows in my head and i dont wish to edit it into smaller posts. somehow they all found there way just here, just now...
...........................
amazing collection of fine art photos from the World Cup stadiums. we're down to 45 days!!!!

really? whale poop will seriously save the world?!?

this makes me really proud.

haiti doesn't want your money anymore. in fact, stop sending it..

.........................................

can i tell you how random my brain is? i wonder if there is something wrong that it can be completely absorbed in one thing and in a moment switch gears fully. i had the sweetest little conversation with my best friend today. it had been to long. i told her the latest inside information on my life. we giggled. we sighed. i almost cried. she drove. i sat. it was lovely. she could be the only truly close friend who doesn't call me boo. the rest all do. including my new south african father who upon realizing my blogspot address inquired and now can't stop. its comical and weird. 

even though i go up at night to lay my head down and sleep. i am not alone. lizzy nods her head when i ask questions or smiles when i cry and gives me hugs. jacques gives me a hug goodnight and i'm safe. jacquie and nicole clamor, "tannie bekah, look! tannie bekah, watch! auntie bekah, see what i made!" and like my boys, the smile and look with wide-eyes to see my affirmation and love and attention. so endearing the heart of wee ones are. its good to be touched.

.................................

they tell me they won't ask me to leave.
they tell me that they will talk to me about little annoyances before big issues arise.
they tell me goodnight each evening.
they tell me i'm a leader. i'm doing remarkable work. and they believe in me.
they tease me incessantly.
they say all the inappropriate swear words good christians dont say in america, because here it is not a curse word to say them.*
they tell me their kids love me and like spending time with me.

and i sit and wait and watch and try and not test on purpose but wait for the moment of reckoning.
i wait for them to realize they don't want me to stay. and i wait for the moment i realize i don't want to stay either...

its so weird to be living with others. not just for a night or two. but living. the sort of living where i am fully laid bare and my junk is visible, and their junk is visible, and i choose to still love, and they choose to still love....or, they ask me to leave. and they promised they won't. which is marvelous, and in my head i believe them. but even if they did ask me to go back to my little lapa it would be ok. but thats another long thought and not for here. not for today....

and i'm adopted in. i'm adopted in like my siblings were. different yes. i have my family still and i will never lose them. never lose their love and that support and that family-ness. but i've been adopted in. websters says adoption is:

1. to take by choice into a relationship**

that is what they have done. by choice they invited me in. its a strange feeling and thought and i dont know if its the living or the choosing or the whatnot but i am here and its doing weird things to my mental processing. its given me a new awareness of what my all grown siblings felt when they were taken in. the process of being and morphing but still being your true self is strange. adaptation is a good thing. a hard thing. a joyous thing.

i'm learning that grace comes in many forms. many graces have been laid on my head. i don't know how to process them.
i'm a loud shout of silence.
i'm just taking and sitting and storing. but he's doing a good work in me and i can feel it. and i want to kick back and fight the absorbing and my pride longs to stand strong, but i'm not strong and i am needy (thanks, missy), and its ok. and we're all needy. and i feel He is storing up in me and preparing and healing and working out joints and marrow and hurt into something good and strong and He loves me and not an ounce of weird feelings or moving across an ocean and separating from normal will mar what He is doing or in fact what He is purposed in me and that is good and strong and joy and new-life. and He is the redeemer of all things and i am just the product that sits and watches the one i love take the hammer and chisel smooth somedays or chops into pieces other days and my marble carves out and it hurts and other times i see shiny beauty and its glorious to be carved and He does it. does the carving and does the mending.

and He throws me into fire and He mends the broken pieces and He makes me gold and shiny and silver dancing in the moonlight. and i feel all together like a mess. and i used to think missionaries were such good people. leaving behind so much, and leaving behind everything, because they felt compelled to go and share love. to share real love. and yes, there is a compelling and there lies fire in these bones that won't stop or quit till its all known by all, but there is much more than that and its hard to put it all into thoughts and feelings when it runs wild in your mind. because love moves in weird ways and love does weird things to a heart and its done weird things to my heart and i can't help but want to share that. even though right now the disconnect between the love in my head and the love in my heart seems vast and seems stronger than an ocean current and deep deep deep like the ocean floor. i can't seem to be able to reconcile what is known to what is felt and maybe i'm just too analytic for my own good. and maybe i am. or maybe i'm just too prideful to just sit and let it be and let Him be and let it all be fine. and maybe its true. or maybe the times i have felt and the times i have sang and danced and been enveloped in good freedom bursting love have all been real.

and its all been good and right and maybe i'm just thinking too much or thinking to little and i just want to sit with Him up on Bethany hill and just look over Jerusalem with Him and just hear Him long, ache and whisper how He beats to gather his children together and hold them, and hold them close, and whisper to them love, and warm away the cold night air. and just to sit and marvel next to Him that this man, that this man is the one I love. that this man is the one who has made me new and makes me new and refuses to quit on me when i quit on me. and just to watch the way his hair blows free in the moonlight and how his hands reach out and heal the little ones, and how He's full of compassion on those he's closest too, on the ones who are honest with Him and the ones He lives with. honest with their pride, honest with their hurt, honest with their disbelief, and how He kept around him the one who would betray Him and how He didn't give up believing in that one knowing it all; knowing what He'd do. and that is why i love judas, for i'm him too, but somehow and in someway i think that maybe knowing i'll run away and betray and grab my 30 pieces and toss them in the wind, that somehow maybe he won't give up on me knowing all that. that somehow he will still invest in me and trust me and that is what i ache to see. to just see the love in His eyes. to hear the miracle words He spoke with my own ears....
........................................

*can i tell you how i still giggle tremendously to hear such a passionate man of the Word, of Jesus; a man who is my south african father, say things that my dad in america would never say?!? like normal dinner conversation to have d*mn or a*s spoken. ooooooo i will never get used to it and never understand how its normal here.
hey bud, you know, it certainly isn't helping my cursing disease to be living with them!! :)

**the other definitions don't really apply!
............................................
sit and take Him in. pause and listen to the stirring in your heart. know that He longs to gather you, longs to hold you. feel His hair whip across the wind and speckle your face, too.

the clinic came and we had our mump shots

my sweet little men had shots today. i think it was harder on me then it was on them. the clinic is in the middle of this big anti-mumps campaign and doing vaccinations on all the wee little ones in the province. i knew it wouldn't be pleasant. i didn't know how unpleasant it would be. the tears and cries were plentiful!

oh, how i love them so!

i have decided that if/when i ever have children i will not take them to the doctor for their immunizations. i will go away and let my husband and father take care of it. i completely agree in immunizing children, but i can't do it. i thought i would near pass out today. my stomach hurt and i almost fainted. i kept whispering in my head to myself, "suck it up, strangarity. you're not even getting the shots."

oh they cried. their sweet little faces contorted all pain-filled. they screamed. they clung to me. i couldn't believe it. i imagined them trying to run back into the school building...but they didn't. little hands reached up and clawed my neck and stomach.

oh, i love them!

they also got polio medicine. two droplets into their open mouths. perfect (above) was the absolute worst. that kid spat his out 6 times. SIX TIMES! 2 times on me, once on the doctor, and the rest on the ground. oh he fought so strong to not take it....i almost gave in. i have no backbone when it comes to their pain. finally he swallowed.

their little arms. so strong in fighting. little red specks on chocolate skin. i couldn't take it. of course, ruben and johanno didn't even make a noise. how in the world, roelene (you, stalker! *grin*)? they were little brave angels and gratefully too. 

i normally enjoy when the clinic comes. they give medicine, they make the kids better. but i'm not lying at all when i say i would be fine to not ever see them again. i just can't handle it. their little tear stained faces. i don't care it makes them better and healthier in the long run. it hurts my heart.

all of these photos were taken last week. we used the timer after lunch. the boys know that if they eat well i will let us play or watch a movie. they almost always chose to play. i am teaching them to use my camera. so the photos that have 3 or more of them in are timer shots. otherwise its one of the boys. they didn't do to shabby of a job for the very first time pushing buttons and holding a camera. i was nervous but their excitement over doing this was my joy too.

i moved. this afternoon. the rain delayed the moving for two days. which isn't long, but when you're anxious and ready its long. i'm sitting in my new bed now. i have never felt so relaxed and content over such an unsettled thing in my entire life, or at least in a very long time. i have no plans to leave again but i have no plans to really stay here longer than a few weeks. its a weird place. this unsettled but settled feeling and i'm glad. i'm on the other side of the farm with one of the families here and i think it will be so good for me to have a family environment. i'm a bit curious to see how living with a family goes as its been over 7 years since i lived with one. ha! but it will be good to have more hugs and love and not be living alone. 

please go back and look through these photos again. please take note of each face in each photo. the expression these boys make kill me. i love that you can see the relationship and trust kelvin and perfect and i have built. tutu is only in his 3rd week of school and still keeps his distance with me. soon he'll be hanging on me like the other boys do. but their faces. and little arm movements. just eat them up along with me, please!

oh, i love them so!

stand and smile

sweet boy just moves to fast.
like the tasmanian devil, he is a whirl of activity and spunk and going! going! going!

it amazes me their little personalities. shining so brightly, so young.
i know them.
know that if i do this, it will make them say that.
know that if i treat them this way, they will react this way.

and i know that no matter how often he gets hurt he still goes at a go! go! go! pace.
lightening fast.

he fell down hard today. he was running in the school. running to get something for me.
and his dear little feet just got caught up in the ground.
he tumbled and hit his head fairly hard.
poor kelvin boy.

and so he moves with the wind blowing and coming and going.
and consequently he falls sometimes. but in a moment he is up.
within instants. and that smile i love so dearly is again on his face.
and he is back to running through life.

perhaps you could argue it isn't wise how fast he moves through life. and yes, there are certainly lessons in that. but today. oh, today what i love is how he just gets right back up.
back up and smiling.

i pray he always gets right back up and smiles when he falls down.

and that i have the courage to do that as well.

and not only to stand again, but to stand and smile.

these wee little ones teach more than i teach them. that is, if i pause long enough to

breath and see and take it in.

take in their God whispers in the everyday.

my new ring.

three minute thursday.
i've decided to try something different. thursday and three just sorta go, don't they? i think so. they got that t, h, and r thing. i've decided every thursday i will write for only three minutes. so maybe not every thursday, or maybe every thursday, i don't know that yet, but i do know i'll write only three minutes on every thursday that i write. it'll be a fun little exercise.
my three minutes will not count any links or photos or fixing of spelling. those i can add later. its my blog and my rules. and thanks to Alece, for sorta inspiring this. and inspiring my continual lovesong with Africa. she and i are more similar then i wish.
the rest of this all happened this morning, around 530.
...............................
4:16-go!
days pass and what i want to say is buried in the secret places of my journal.
leather bound.
inspiring me to always be proactive. not aimless. but usually i'm aimless. its when i'm at my best.

she gave me a ring.
in a box.
said she had a dream about me.
that she saw me running.
running to God. and he running to me.
and we met in the middle.
and he knelt down and gave me a box. asked me to marry him.
said i had no shame.
all shame was gone.
and he wanted me.

and do you know what your name means rebekah, she asked?
yes i shook my head but i've heard two versions.
one-captivating.
two-a rope that is twisted and tied.

and i told how i always hated that. that most people saw that as the meaning though the hebrew says differently in the root of the word. but whatever it was a silly thing to care about the meaning of a name....
and she told me, but you know what. it does mean captivating. the root means that. it can't be different. and you know the rope it is referencing is one finely crafted and lovely to behold. either way, you are beautiful and captivating. and HE wants you still. that is your name. divinely given to you, labeling your intrinsic value.

you haven't done too much for him.
and she gave me this box. and inside a ring. so i would always remember that He has chosen me. to bind himself to me forever. and no choice i made, especially no choice made upon me, can mar that.

and she told me that she believes in me.

and with white crystal dancing in the morning sunlight i drove home.
i drove home as red rocks flamed fire in the sunrise and white bellows of seafog danced in the meadows.
and my ring glistened pure and lovely

4:19-done.

briefly, in photos, Easter Weekend

this was the drive down the mountain. i dont even know why, but it enchanted me so.

i will never tire of seeing zebras. they scream "afrika!" to me. i love them.

the very first turtle i saw here in SA.

the weather was "rain" in the forecast all week. and it did seem to rain an awful lot. but it always seemed to rain when we were driving or at someone's house. when we were "out" we were blessed. blue blue skies.

this little one was so precious. ahhh just look at its delicate little legs.

i love lily ponds.

i loved this bird.

i spy with my little eye a hippo. and this was about all i spotted of him for the entire time we sat and watched him.

probably the biggest rack i have ever seen on a kudu.

o, you know...just an elephant, crossing the road.

this is where the lion was. see the big rock, just to the left is the lion, in front of that tree. amazing!! :)

hi lady lion

this series is what i like to call: "watch simba and nala make a baby." of course, its difficult to see. but it really happened. it was outrageous and unbelievable and awkward.

i told you i LOVE this little guy. SO SO SO stinkin cute. i want one! i love his little body. i love the way he just was spastic. he was freakin adorable.

one evening tannie magda came running to my room and said i must come and see this. she had a very large spider in the tub! it was gross. i can still barely look at it. *shudders*

i just love this shot. something about it is homey and simple and i want to paint it.

this was another massive kudu.

i. love. this. photo. it is like the elephant was hiding out in the trees and bushes. Peek-a-boo!

i couldn't decide if i wanted to shoot in black and white...

...or color.

i love this photo too. i love when the light shines through brightly and illuminates.

it is fall here in South Africa, however, the colors in the next few photos are not from the leaves changing. they are from a fire. but its still beautiful and i love the colors!!

this photo is amazing. i love the blurry elephant in the background and how i got my camera to focus on the leaves in the front. love it...

check out those fall colors?!?! *winks*

this is the beauty and problem of Kruger. its a wild park. the animals dont have signs saying "look here" or tags where you can chase them on your GPS. they are wild. free roaming. below you see the rhino. we were told by a car coming towards us there were rhino in the bushes, so naturally we looked for them. we had prayed ALL day for a rhino. it was the one animal i really wanted to see. so we pull up to the spot they are supposed to be and we are looking and looking. and then we spot it! i snapped this photo the very next moment. can you see it? now you understand how its possible to drive and see nothing or happen to see everything.

i have this exact photo that went out with my Christmas update letter. only it is from me just landing back home in the states and seeing snow. anyway. i guess i need to practice making some new faces that display shock and joy and awe.

look at that rhino!!! amazing!! (ps: there is NO zoom on that photo!)

deciding to cross the road

just behind our car!!!!!! *insert massive open face here* ps: isn't his little butt and legs cute?!?! i love rhinos!

told ya i liked his butt. so square and funny....

trying to make it out by 6 so we didn't get a fine! we lost track of time *smile*. that mountain in the distance, the pointy one, is where we stayed. literally. the place was on the top. it was amazing.

just another view of the college. friends of tannie's and oom's work there and so we stayed in the old hotel turned college/dorm for exceptionally cheap. it was beautiful and a blessing.

this is the only photo i have of collin. what a man! seriously! he was friends with oom and tannie and when he heard i started a school he gave me an entire years plus of Bible curriculum to use in teaching. it was well close to 20 pounds of teachers guides and children's book. i almost cried. i asked if i could pay or give a donation or something! anything! and he just said it was in honor, and his wife, elizabeth. she just recently passed away and he wanted to "pay forward" the life and legacy of her. i readily accepted and tears burned my eyes. he travels all over southern african nations in this truck, with a pop up camper! he travels like this so he doesn't have to be 'put up" by local churches and can sustain himself. he was a gem. it was an honor to spend time with someone that has spent well over 50 years sharing the Good News.

just the outside of my room, looking at the pool.

next door to the college is a very famous and large AIDS clinic. i should remember its name, and the founders name, but he's been asked to travel the world to replicate the system going on down there.

ashley and her mom drove with us to visit friends in the area. she and i would go for walks together and love all the flowers and greenery!

colors!

i. love. this. photo. man alive. sometimes i am completely surprised i capture images like this. but i know i did. thinking about blowing it up and hanging it above my bed...

i know thats a lot of photos. but....it was a very full and good weekend!! i'm waiting for some photos tannie M is gonna send me. so maybe i'll have some more soon, who knows?!?!